Memories
by Dhasku Alidath
Summary: It's ten years after the Dream Team graduated from Hogwarts, and nine years since the final battle in which Voldemort was destroyed. But there are still wounds that need to be healed and hearts that need to be mended.


**Title:** Memories  
**Author name:** Wand*Light  
**Author e-mail:** wand_light@hotmail.com  
**Category:** Romance  
**Rating:** PG  
**Spoilers:** None really  
**Summary:** It's ten years after the Dream Team graduated from Hogwarts, and nine years since the final battle in which Voldemort was destroyed. But there are still wounds that need to be healed and hearts that need to be mended.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry, Ron, Hermione or Ginny. I don't own any of the other characters either, no matter how much I'd like too. They are the property of J.K. Rowling, the writer of the Harry Potter books and the creator of the Hogwarts world.  
  


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Hermione looked at her calendar. It was that time of year again, the time when her heart broke all over again. It was the one day of the year she hated and loved at the same time, the anniversary of Ron's proposal to her and his death. It was amazing how much it still hurt to think of him over the years. Like a white hot knife piercing her chest.  
  
Hermione gathered her books and left her office. It had been ten years since they had graduated, though not very traditionally. Their graduation had been more of a rite of passage, a trial by fire, Voldemort's fire. It had been nine years since that last battle against Voldemort. It was funny how that name held no fear over her anymore, or anyone else. Ten years since Ron, Professor Dumbledore, Ginny, Hagrid and so many others had died. Professor McGonagall was now the headmistress and she, Hermione, was now the Transfiguration professor and the head of Gryffindor House. Harry, though he was as emotionally scarred over Ron's death as she was, was now the best Auror the Ministry had ever had. He was responsible for putting all of the remaining Death Eaters in Azkaban, including Lucius Malfoy and several others that had slipped through the cracks. Hermione thought it was a little sad that Harry's Quidditch talents had never been put to use. Harry had turned down the offers made by the national Quidditch teams to become an Auror. Hermione thought it was his way of dealing with the pain of Ginny's death. Hermione had simply thrown herself farther into her studies.  
  
Walking down the hall, Hermione almost smiled as she remembered the time Ron had jumped out from behind a pillar and kissed her for the first time, on this very spot. They had been sixth years, and Ron had run all the way back to Gryffindor Tower after he had done it. He hadn't spoken to her for days, then finally told her loved her.  
Dropping her books in her room, Hermione hurried to the broom shed for her broom. Snatching up her Nimbus 5000, she took off and headed for Hogsmeade. Every year she and Harry would meet and visit Ron and Ginny. It had been a week before graduation. Harry had told Ginny he would wait until she was done with school the same day Ron had proposed to Hermione. But it wasn't to be. That night, the war started, and coincidentally or intentionally, they had both died in the final battle one year later. Harry and Hermione were left behind and the Dream Team was reduced to two.  
A few minutes later, Hermione noticed she was over Hogsmeade. Angling downward, Hermione soon landed outside the Three Broomsticks. As she leaned her broom against the wall, she recognized Harry's Firebolt. Scanning the crowd she saw him, wrapped in his black cloak, head down, sitting in their corner, and fiddling with a mug of butterbeer. Though she couldn't see his face, she recognized the tuffs of black hair peeking out of his hood. She walked over then sat down next to him.  
  
"Hey," she said, as she poked him in the ribs, "you know you're not supposed to start without me."  
"I was waiting for you." Harry said with a trace of a smile in his voice. He looked up, and Hermione saw he had been crying.  
"It's OK," she said, as she scooted her chair closer and grasped one of his hands. "I miss them too."  
"Here comes Rosemerta with your drink," Harry said, inclining his head at the land lady who was walking over with a butterbeer in her hand.  
"Here you go dear" Madam Rosemerta set the mug down in front of Hermione.  
"Thanks, Rosemerta." Hermione muttered softly before she picked up the butterbeer.  
"Your welcome." Rosemerta's voice cracked slight as she said this. She'd watched the two of them meet here every year ever since Ron and Ginny had died, and her heart wrung every time she saw them. Quickly turning on her heel so she could leave them in peace, she walked back to the counter.  
  
Hermione raised her glass up. Harry did the same.  
"Here's to lost loves," Hermione said.  
"To lost loves," Harry intoned.  
Their mugs clinked together and they tipped them back.  
"Come," Harry said when they had drained their butterbeers. "It's almost time to go see them."  
Hermione set her mug down. "I know, but sometimes I wonder if I can go on like this. I loved Ron so much, I still do, but there's just this hole in me that can't seem to be filled by anything."  
"You can go on," Harry said laying his hand on hers. "you have for ten years, and Ron would want you to."  
Hermione sighed. "All right, I'm coming. Do you want to fly or Apperate?"  
"Let's fly," Harry said. "I always like to think a while before and I seem to think best when I'm flying."  
  
They dropped their pay on the table and grabbed their brooms. Taking off, Hermione began to wonder if this was what the rest of their lives were going to be like, her teaching at Hogwarts and Harry chasing dark wizards. She knew there had to be something more but she didn't know what. Following Harry, she wondered also if she would always have a hole in her heart where Ron had been.  
  
As they silently descended over the Memorial Cemetery in Gordic's Hollow, Hermione sobbed inwardly as she saw the rows of markers. So many had died, so many had been lost. Now crying outwardly, Hermione hopped off her broom and placed it in the small shed at the edge of the cemetery. Taking a hold of Harry's hand, because she knew she would just run back to Hogwarts otherwise, she made her way across the grounds. Toward the back of the cemetery there was a small cluster of markers labeled Weasley. Fred, Percy, and Arthur Weasley has also died in the last battle. The remaining four were a stark contrast to the spirited family that had once filled the Burrow with laughter. Ron and Ginny were buried at the end of the line, next to each other. Hermione and Harry sat on the ground together and watched Ron and Ginny in the dwindling sunlight. Hermione laid her head on Harry's shoulder, tears streaming down her face as she stared at Ron's marker.  
  
It was made of marble with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned at the top. In a glass case on top of the marker was Ron's wand, willow and unicorn hair. Inscribed beneath his name, date of birth and death, were the words: _Ron Weasley- The greatest chess player in the world… and the greatest friend._ And lover too, Hermione thought silently. Harry put an arm around her shoulder as she was racked with sobs. She felt a drop on her forehead and realized Harry was crying too. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, trying to comfort him. Hours passed and soon darkness fell. Hermione dried her tears and stood up. Bending over, she gave Ron's marker a soft kiss and whispered good-bye. Harry did the same to Ginny. Hand-in-hand, they walked away leaning on each other. Hermione soon stumbled in the moon-less night.  
  
"How stupid of me," Harry said taking out his wand. "Lumos."  
His wand lit up illuminating two markers. They bent down to get a better look.  
It was Harry's parents.  
"Have they always been there?" Hermione asked softly.  
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "We've just never walked this way before."  
  
Hermione bent down to read the inscriptions. They read: _James Thomas Potter- The bravest of the brave… Defiant till the end_ and _Lily Evans Potter- A mother with a lullaby sweeter than a phoenix… A champion of witches_. The glass cases on top of the markers held two wands, the one they bought when they were first years at Hogwarts and another they had bought after graduation. On the front of the markers the Gryffindor lion flashed in the soft wand light.  
  
"How often do you visit them?" Hermione asked as she straightened up.  
"Every other month," he replied. "Though the only time I see Ginny is with you. It tears my heart too much."  
"I understand," Hermione whispered. "Why is there an empty space next to your mum?" Hermione pointed to the spot. No where else was there a gap between the markers, except the aisles.  
"They probably left it there in case I got killed too," Harry said, a morbid but sarcastic tone creeping into his voice. "My parents were already here before this officially became the Memorial Cemetery. It was an unspoken understanding that the wizards here all died from Voldemort. It wasn't till after the last battle that this became the Memorial Cemetery."  
"That was rather… rude of them," Hermione said shaking her head.  
"While we're at it," Harry said, changing the subject, "we might as well visit Dumbledore also."  
  
Lighting her wand, Hermione followed Harry along the rows of markers, pulled along by the hand. Many of the names were familiar, and it pained Hermione to see how many of her friends had been killed. Angelina Johnson, Dean Thomas, Sally-Anne Perks, Cho Chang, Severus Snape, well he wasn't really a friend, but almost. Cedric Diggory had been buried in the cemetery too, even though that had been three years before the battle. Finally, they stopped in front of a marker inscribed with Dumbledore's name. _Headmaster Albus Dumbledore- The greatest headmaster and wizard... A man with the heart of a phoenix_.  
  
"I can still remember what he said when I was in the hospital wing after the incident with the Sorcerer's Stone," Harry said as he squeezed her hand tight.  
"What was it?"  
"He said, 'To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.' He had the most organized mind I know, well, maybe you do, but he was right," Harry said, "I can almost feel him here."  
Hermione didn't know what Harry felt, but all she felt was the warmth of his hand in the chilly night air.  
"What other words of wisdom did he pass to you?" Hermione asked. "I seem to remember that each of your talks with him left you a little wiser in some way."  
"In our third year," Harry said, "He asked me, 'Do you think the ones we love ever really leave us?' That one's true also. I know Mum and Dad are near me, and Ginny too."  
"We'd better get going," Hermione said quietly. "It's getting cold and I have assignments to grade."  
"Here," Harry said as he took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. "You're right as always. It won't do us any good to stay here all night."  
They walked back to the broom shed in silence, hand in hand again and leaning toward each other for warmth.  
  
When they got to the broom shed, Hermione grabbed her broom and handed Harry back his cloak. "Here, I'll just Apperate to the edge of Hogwarts and fly in quick. I won't be cold for long."  
Harry pushed the cloak back. "No, I can Apperate right into my flat. Take the cloak, you can return it to me tomorrow. Rest easy." Then he leaned down, amazing how much he had grow since their years in school, and gave her a quick, soft kiss on her forehead.  
"OK," Hermione said as she tied the cloak back on, "I'll return it to you after dinner tomorrow. Good night." With that she climbed on her broom so she could gain some altitude before Apperating. As she looked back she saw Harry staring after her. By the time she had Apperated, he was still standing there.  
  
When Hermione got back to Hogwarts she put her broom in the broom shed and quietly went up to her room. She tried to grade her students' papers, but she couldn't concentrate. That night she did anything but rest easy. All she could think about was Harry and Ron, and how much alike they were. They weren't the same, just alike.  
She looked at her hand. His grasp was so much like Ron's. Warm, comforting, and gentle. When he had held her hand as they sat there she had noticed how much it had reminded her of Ron's. His hugs were like Ron's too. Strong and yet tender. Even his kisses were strangely similar to Ron's. Hermione fingered the spot on her forehead where Harry had placed his seemingly brotherly kiss. It didn't really seem that way. It had reminded her of the time Ron had leaned down and kissed her forehead once when she was sick. Harry even smelled faintly like Ron. Sunny and breezy. The smells of outdoors and broom riding.  
Hermione looked at the picture by her bed. It was of Ron and her during their seventh year, not long before Ron was killed. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and was grinning like mad. Every once in a while, the image of Ron would swoop the figure of herself down into a deep kiss. She laughed lightly as she watched the picture-Ron's antics. That was exactly how Ron had been.  
Around three AM, Hermione finally fell asleep, but it wasn't very helpful. Even in her dreams she kept seeing Ron slowly changing into Harry. She was extremely confused by this. She knew it probably had a meaning, but she had never been a good divinator. That had been Ron and Harry's joke. By the time she woke for breakfast, she had circles under her eyes and nothing figured out.  
  
That day, her students seemed to notice the difference in their normally bossy and strict professor. In each of her classes, students wreaked havoc, but she didn't do anything. She was too confused by her dreams and thoughts that she hardly saw what was going on.  
After classes Hermione went to her room and tried to sort out her feelings. She knew she loved Ron, she always would, but there was something inside of her that was longing for Harry. She picked up his cloak, the one he had lent her the night before. She had said she would return it after dinner. Hermione had a feeling she would be doing more tonight than just returning a cloak.  
After dinner, Hermione walked to the edge of Hogwarts' grounds and Apperated to where she knew Harry would be.  
The sun was just beginning setting as she reached the line of Weasley markers in the Memorial Cemetery. Harry was standing in front of Ginny's marker, head bowed. Hermione walked up to him and laid a soft hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I knew I'd find you here," she whispered.  
"Am I betraying her," Harry asked softly, "feeling like this?"  
Hermione looked up into his bright green eyes and saw the loneliness in them. She probably had the same look in her eyes. She leaned her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.  
"I don't know," she whispered. "Am I betraying Ron?"  
"What can the dead do?" Harry asked, not disrespectfully, but merely curious.  
"Plenty," Hermione replied, remembering the books she had read about vengeful lovers.  
"Do you think they would disapprove of us?" Harry mummered into he hair.  
Hermione lifted her head a looked at Ron and Ginny's markers.  
"Why don't we ask them?" she said softly.  
Harry's head jerked and Hermione heard him give a soft gasp.  
"Ginny?"  
Sitting nonchalantly on top of their markers were the faint images of Ron and Ginny. They were laughing into their hands.  
"The look on your face Harry," Ron's ghost chuckled. "Boy, you never looked that scared when I was alive."  
"But then again," Ginny giggled, "he's never allowed himself to look that scared before, even when facing Voldemort."  
"You know me too well, Ginny," Harry said with a small sigh. "But why are you here?"  
"Because we knew you two would never do anything behind our backs," Ron said, "even though we hardly have backs to speak of."  
  
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.  
"We mean we don't mind you two hitting it off," Ginny said smiling.  
"You don't?" Harry demanded.  
"Of course not," Ron said with a dismissive wave of his blurred hand. "You're our best friends. Now if Hermione here had taken it to her head to hook up with, say, Malfoy, she would have found herself with a very nasty haunt."  
"You're not jesting." Hermione said, unalbe to keep the amazed tone out of her voice. "You're serious about this."  
"Of course," Ginny said. "You're like a sister to me Hermione. If I couldn't have Harry, I would want for you to."  
"The same goes for me with Hermione," Ron said to Harry. "If I can't have her, you're the only other person who can."  
"Thank you," Hermione said a tear trickled down her cheek. "But remember, you two will always be first in our hearts."  
"I should hope so," they both said with grins as they hopped of their markers.  
"We'll always love you," Harry said as Ginny lightly touched his scar and ran a ghostly finger down his face. She smiled.  
"We know," Ron said as he cupped Hermione's chin with an ashen hand. "Now be good."  
"I will," she whispered.  
  
Ron and Ginny slowly faded from view as the last of the sun's rays faded from the horizon. Hermione looked up at Harry's face as he held her. His green eyes almost glowed in the twilight. He smiled, then wrapping his arms around her, leaned down and planted a long kiss on her lips.  
  
**A/N:** Reviews are one of a writer's best friend. 


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